Caged Heat
by The Lost Souls of Avalon
Summary: Castiel has a reason for everything he does. Dean Winchester is not necessarily privy to those reasons, either. Slash. One-shot.


Caged Heat fix-it one-shot. Harry Potter/Supernatural crossover. Slash. Castiel has a reason for everything he does. Rated teen. Not beta'ed. Don't own.

* * *

When Castiel vanished from beside the Impala, he didn't return to Heaven like the Winchester brothers believed. Instead, he flew to the duplex his lover shared in Delacroix, at the appropriate time just before he'd be leaving for his shift at the hospital. He felt the twang of wards vibrating against him momentarily before they recognized him and allowed him entrance. With a flutter, he touched down in the bedroom, just as his lover came out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel from his shower.

Harry Potter paused mid step, body tightening from war-honed reflexes before realizing who exactly was in his bedroom. He gave the angel a warm smile, then went to the cherry wood dresser to get a clean change of clothes. "Found Crowley's bones alright?" he asked idly as he shucked off the towel and began to dress, giving Cas an eyeful of flesh. "Evil son of a bitch give Winchester his soul back?"

Their interrupted evening suddenly fresh on Castiel's mind, he crossed the half a dozen feet to press himself up against the muscular line of Harry's back, unable to resist the urge to nuzzle into his neck and breathe in the scent of soap. He laid his hands on a trim waist, clutching a bit tighter than he intended but getting nary a flinch. His remembered ire of being interrupted by Sam's summon was back with a revenge, but he kept it tightly bound inside his chest, instead focusing on his lover's body heat. Harry was more important at that moment.

Castiel knew he was what humans called "vanilla." While there was passion between him and Harry, being passionate had always been one of the more difficult aspects of maintaining a human relationship for Cas. Even after a year, he was still learning how to be a lover and it was slow going. He knew it was irrational, but his lack of experience he feared would cause Harry to tire of him and would find himself missing an aspect of his life he didn't want to relinquish. Not because he was too… scared.

Harry had to forcefully disentangle himself from Cas' embrace so he could pull on the shirt he'd wear under his lab coat. Turning around to face his lover, he noted the distant look on his rugged visage and had to tap his cheek to bring his attention back to the here and now. "What happened with Crowley?" he inquired again. Because he'd given up one of the few nights he had with Castiel for demon hunting, he found it only fair he was let in on the scoop. And recovering a lost soul was always of great importance; Harry knew too well what happened without a soul, as a whole or fragment.

Castiel reluctantly took a step back to put some space between them, putting the disappointment in the back of his mind to analyze at a later time. "Crowley's dead. He lied about being able to retrieve Sam's soul from the Pit." He decided not to mention how he'd satisfied a bit of his aggravation at being away from Harry by burning the demon's bones. It had also helped alleviate the frustration of having to work with Meg and her henchmen. He could almost still taste her rot on his lips and not for the first time he regretted using her as a guinea pig for his impromptu kissing experiment. Apparently, the pizza man knew his stuff, though, so it hadn't all been a loss. And he felt certain enough he wouldn't embarrass himself if he ––

Harry snapped his fingers a few times in front of his face to draw him from his contemplation, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "So what's Plan B for Operation Restore Sam's Soul?" He ambled into the bathroom for a moment to retrieve a brush and began to work on his hair in all its glorified post-shower mess.

"To my knowledge, there isn't one, except to keep looking for some solution."

"Right, that they'll pull out of their arses, I'm sure." Discarding the brush on the bedside table, Harry veered around the four-poster bed and went to the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room with a small desk. He rifled through its contents for a moment before finding the book he wanted. "Listen, my friend Hermione Granger wrote a thesis about the affects of magic on the soul. For example, the Killing Curse. I might also have a few medicinal tomes that goes over ailments inflicted upon ––"

He was cut off when suddenly Castiel appeared behind him and spun him around to capture his mouth. Harry stumbled back against the shelves, oomphing at the contact but quickly devolving into a panting blob of hectic hormones as Cas kissed him like he'd never done before. Kissing, for them, had always been chaste and brief; Cas had never really gotten the concept, even when put into practice. _This_, however, was something very new and very, _very_ pleasing, especially when a hand ascended to rub his neck, the other firm against the small of his back.

When they parted, Harry could do little but lean back and regain his breath, staring into the crystalline eyes of his lover, which were glazed with an emotion Harry couldn't quite describe. "Not that I'm complaining… but what was that?" he asked, voice airy and barely above a whisper.

Castiel looked away, a shadow –– of shame? Guilt? –– falling over his face. "You know better than anyone that I'm not human, Harry. I have a task I must put before everything else and therefore cannot be with you as often as a proper lover should." He gazed at a point over the wizard's shoulder, quickly sculpting a mask to hide his inner turmoil. "Sometimes I wonder when you'll come to your senses and realize I can't be what you want me to be."

Harry's eyebrows crawled a good inch and a half up his forehead as Cas spoke. It hadn't been the first time he'd gotten the impression the angel was a bit insecure, especially about their relationship, which seemed to be going nowhere fast. But Harry honestly didn't mind. They had all the time in the world now, since the Apocalypse had been derailed. "Are you breaking up with me?" he asked, instead.

"No, I ––"

"Do you _want_ to break up with me?" he pried further, purposefully riling him up.

"Harry, that's not ––"

"You know, ever since you were brought to the ER on my shift, there was something about you that called to me," Harry mused almost absently. He sidestepped away from Castiel, grabbing his coat from where he'd laid it out on his bed earlier and donning it. "It wasn't that you're heart was beating even though you weren't breathing, or the sigil carved on your chest. Even being brain dead, I had this feeling you were too important to die, that some miracle would pull you out of your coma.

"You were so devastated at being weak as a human. In all honesty, I don't think I would have liked you the same had you really stayed human, amusing as it was to see you try to adjust. See, you're an angel, an entirely different species, as you well know. You claim to be emotionless, and maybe you are when you're in Heaven. But on Earth, I reckon that being around all us emotional humans has a kind of influence on all of you."

He pinned on his badge declaring him Mediwizard Harry Potter to those in the magical know, and Dr. Hadrian Black to those not. Delacroix was a mixed community of muggles, squibs, and muggleborns, and one of the very few that coexisted harmoniously in America, where the International Secrecy Act didn't reach because of its lack of magical government. There were wards and charms everywhere so that anything magical or magical related were turned mundane for oblivious visitors, for safety's sake.

Spinning back around, he stalked to his befuddled lover and pecked his cheek. "Anyway, the point is, I like you just the way you are, because _I_ get to be the one to teach you about the intimacies of human nature. I get to witness your personal growth as a lover. So don't feel like you need to impress me to keep me interested. I could never get tired of you, Cas."

He made his way to the door, Cas trailing behind him in a bit of a daze. He gave his lover one more kiss, snagged up the keys to his motorbike and wallet, wand tucked safely into its holster around his forearm. "Though, next time, if you want to try something new, practice on me and not some she-demon. I promise I won't laugh if you don't get it right the first time."

And with a wink, Harry was gone, leaving a flustered angel behind.

* * *

So, random one-shot to celebrate the end of the semester. Plus I got the willies watching Cas suck face with Meg, so I had to put a different spin to it. Insecure Cas worried he's not satisfying his lover and using a receptive Meg as a practice dummy.

Besides, I'd rather watch a romantically/sexually oblivious!Cas than an aware and shagging a girl!Cas. So sue me.


End file.
